


A Kiss For A Lifetime

by Araine



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Romance Novel, F/M, it's a romance novel au the m rating is for mmmm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2019-10-31 03:31:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17841629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Araine/pseuds/Araine
Summary: Ten years ago, Terra was convicted of a crime he did not commit. He fled to the Continent, leaving behind the young woman he hoped to some day marry. Given a chance to clear his name, he leaps at it with both hands.For ten years, Aqua has looked after the house and the charge that was left to her, but the burden has grown too heavy to bear any longer. She's ready to give everything up - when the man she was once in love with comes suddenly back into her life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's a Terraqua romance novel AU. Inspired in part by [this art](http://lorelei-melodei.tumblr.com/post/172899667805/so-i-finished-this-after-some-people-asked-me-to) by lorelei-melodei and in part by my own rambunctious brain which can probably make a Regency Romance Novel AU out of anything. It's got spies, murder plots, balls, kissing, fancy dress, what more could you want?

The night wrapped around everything like a thick cloak, concealing in darkness that which she did not want to be seen. Aqua’s heart still beat its wild rhythm, as it had done for hours, as it had done since she’d hatched this scheme. She was alert, attuned to any stray sound in the night, afraid that at any moment the crown’s justice would catch up with them.

She reached back for Terra’s hand. He held it, and the touch was familiar. He had been right by her side for so long, since she was ten and he was twelve, always ready to offer a gentle hand or a steady word. He was her foundation, and Aqua felt like her world was crumbling away.

Everything had felt like it was falling apart since she had learned that Eraqus was dead, since Terra was taken away for the crime.

Aqua squeezed Terra’s hand tightly. She needed the reassurance, and she was sure that he did too.

Ahead there was the sound of water slapping against the banks of the river, the sound of muffled voices up ahead. Eraqus had given his niece an education beyond that of most gently bred ladies, and so she knew of this quiet bank where sometimes thieves and smugglers would do their work, and she knew how to find a few thieves and smugglers who would take a risk for the right price. They were here, where she hoped they would be.

Aqua let go of Terra’s hand, to uncover her lantern by a sliver and shed a bit more light. Riverbanks could be treacherous, and she did not want to risk a slip in the night.

“It’s this way,” she whispered.

“Aqua.” Terra caught her arm again, held it tightly, his concern clear in the lantern light. “You paid smugglers to get me out?”

“Would you rather I watched you hang?” Aqua let that hang in the air for a moment, though she knew that Terra had no answer for it. At last she turned away and started down the embankment, towards where the small covered boat was tied off.

One of the smugglers peeked up from the boat when they were close enough, and raised his lantern so he could thoroughly look over Aqua and Terra. “This is him?”

Aqua looked over the covered boat, which looked sturdy enough to stand up to the river, with a feeling of dread. It would take Terra to safety. It would also take him away from her. “It is. Can you give us a minute?”

The smuggler hesitated, then nodded. “Make it quick. We have to leave soon.”

Aqua took Terra back into the trees a few paces, and shuttered her lantern so they were outlined only by moonlight and the reflected smugglers lanterns on the river. She drew a deep breath, and fished a purse from her pocket, which she pressed into Terra’s hand.

“There’s enough there to take ship, and have a some left over when you land,” she said, glancing back at the smuggler ship. She pulled a second, smaller purse from her pocket. “Don’t let them see it. This is for bribing them, if you must.”

Terra tucked both purses hastily away. “Aqua,” he said. “I’m so sorry for putting you through this.”

Aqua felt the first prickling of tears at her eyes, when through the rest of this she had felt so numb. She put her arms around him, as if she could hold him close and keep him there. “Terra…”

“I’m sorry, Aqua,” he repeated, lips pressed against her hair, holding her as close as she did him. “I’m sorry for quarreling with Eraqus. I’ll come back, when the real murderer is found. I promise I’ll come back.”

Aqua wished that she could believe that promise, but in her heart she knew it was empty. She was never going to see Terra again, not while either of them still lived, and so she did what she had never before dared to do. She kissed him.

Terra returned her kiss, his hands in her hair, with all of the sweetness and impossible longing that Aqua felt. She surrendered to this kiss, that she had so long been hoping for. It lasted, long past when Aqua had forgotten to breathe, as if by holding in her breath she might make time stop just long enough.

At last Aqua pulled away gasping, tears streaming down her face. She glanced at the river, where the smugglers were waiting to take Terra to the coast where he could take ship. Terra looked back at Aqua, struck helpless.

“Go,” Aqua said. “I’m with you. Go.”

Terra turned, and boarded the boat. Aqua watched after him, and when they pushed off from the shore she stretched out her hand as if she might touch him one last time, and she had to smother the scream for them to come back. It twisted, instead, into a sob as the boat disappeared down the river and Aqua was left alone with only the memory of a kiss.

One kiss, for what should have been a lifetime.

It was not enough.

 

**Ten Years Later**

The numbers didn’t add up.

Aqua sat at her desk in her study, a sheaf of papers and freshly opened correspondence meticulously organized at her left hand. She ran her finger down the ledger in front of her, her careful accounting of income and expense and tried to get the numbers to add up in her favor. No matter how persistently she tried to excise her budget, however, it never added up to enough.

Most of the letters in her stack said the same thing. Her creditors expressed their sympathies, some more convincingly than others, but there was nothing further that they could give until she repaid the debts on the estate.

She picked up the letter on the top of the stack, the contents of the letter had not changed in the past half hour since she had read it. _Dear Miss Riviere,_ it read. _We cannot at present offer any further extensions on your loan of--_  Aqua let out a long sigh, and added it back to the stack of correspondence. She looked at the ledger again.

It was an impossible problem. She was still paying off the creditors from last autumn’s flood repair, and this winter’s loans which had kept them from freezing, and the loans which had paid for Ventus’ doctors and his schooling. There was not enough money coming into the estate to pay them all, and the interest only mounted higher each year.

And she was so _tired._

Eraqus’ will had been explicit, that upon the event of his death his niece was to inherit Departure House and all its associated lands outright, to be managed and executed by her until the event of her marriage. At first it had been a comfort, in those early days after her uncle’s tragic death, to bury the immensity of her grief in the daily work of land ownership. That was before Ven had fallen ill, before bad harvests and floods had wiped out what little savings she had made. For the past five years it had been nothing but a long slow walk to the inevitable end of the line, which was here.

Aqua was going to have to sell Departure House.

In a way it was a relief, to give up and accept the inevitable. She had failed. She could give up, sell the house she grew up in and perhaps there would be enough money left over from the sale to buy a small house and for her and Ven to live comfortably enough.

It was Ventus who tore at her heart the most. Eraqus had instructed Aqua in his will to provide for Ventus and see to his education. Ven was only just starting to seem like a real boy again, after so many years.

She would have to pull him out of boarding school, just before he started his final year. He had worked so hard, just to be strong enough to finally attend. Aqua had been so happy - properly happy, for the first time in years - at Ven’s pride when he first tried on his navy blue uniform. And he had real friends, at last.

Only what choice did she have? Sell the house now, or lose it later. She would just have to break Ven’s heart.

Aqua started with the first letter, writing out a response asking for a few months more time as she worked out a solution that would please all of them. They had to know that she was close to selling the estate to leverage her debts. They would give her time, as a courtesy as she got the sale in order. To the next letter she wrote the same thing, and then the next.

Aqua folded up all of the letters, just as she had once folded up all of her broken dreams, into a neat parcel to send away. Then she pulled a sheaf of paper from her dwindling supply, and started a letter to her solicitor, inquiring about the selling of Departure House and all of its associated property.

This letter she folded but did not seal, not yet. She opened the top drawer of the desk, the one that contained her more important correspondence, including an ancient and yellowing letter that Aqua could not bear to rid herself of. She brushed the edge of it, made frail with age and wear, and then placed the letter to her solicitor on top of it.

Aqua was in the house kitchen and preparing supper when she heard the sound of crashing feet in the hall. Ventus was in that stage of boyhood where he had to run everywhere. Aqua had never had the heart to discourage it, not after the years he had spent too frail to run anywhere. She still scolded that he should stop immediately if his head ached or his lungs felt out of breath.

He burst into the kitchen, and smelled the air exaggeratedly. “Smells delicious. What’s for supper, Aqua?”

“La fricassée de poulets aux champignons.”

Ven scratched his head. “Ahh-- that’s chicken, right? Poulets is chicken?”

Aqua ruffled Ven’s hair. “Chicken and mushrooms. What are you doing with all your fancy schooling?” Immediately Aqua felt a pang of guilt, and she winced away from Ven and looked back at the pan. She bit her lip.

“Oh, you know me. Getting into all sorts of trouble with Ephemer and Brain.”

Fortunately Ven didn’t seem to notice, as he set about setting the table for the two of them. Aqua had closed up the dining room, since only she and Ventus were ever in residence and they so rarely had guests. They ate in the kitchen now, and it suited them just fine.

Aqua served the simple meal, along with a few pieces of bread though she had no butter to put on them. Then she and Ventus sat down and began to eat, though Aqua’s stomach was roiling so badly she barely had an appetite.

“So, Ven,” she started, unsure how to broach the topic of conversation. “You’re back to Union Hall in another few weeks, then?”

Ven nodded. He was set to leave back to the boarding school after the holiday ended. Life was always at its best when Aqua had Ven home with her, and unendingly lonely when she did not. Without Ven, it was too easy to let her fits of melancholy take her over. When he was here, it was easier to see the abyss for what it truly was.

And she had to break his heart.

Aqua stirred her mushrooms. “How are your studies?”

“Well,” Ven said, “I shall have top marks in everything but French, and it seems like as anything that we’re soon to be at war with the French in any case.”

“Very good.” Aqua could barely get the words out, she was choking on them. “Ven. I have to ask you something very serious.”

Ven looked curiously up from his plate, for Aqua was rarely so serious with him. She had tried to shield him as best as she could from the reality of their circumstances. Only now she had failed at that too.

“How would you feel if-- if you only finished out this year, and then we finished your schooling somewhere else?”

There. It was out, at last. She watched, the hurt slowing dawning in Ven’s eyes as he considered what she was saying, and felt miserable for it. Only she had no other choice.

“You mean, go somewhere else? Another boarding school?”

“Actually,” Aqua said, and her voice sounded far away and too bright to her own ears. “I would take over your schooling, at home. Not here, though. Somewhere else, probably.”

Ventus frowned at Aqua. “What do you mean?” His voice was shaking.

Aqua reached across the table to grab Ven’s hand. “I mean I have to sell the estate, Ven. And we’ll have to take you out of Union Hall.” Ven wrenched his hand away from Aqua’s, glaring at her, the hurt plain on his face. She tried to plead with him, silently, to understand. “I’m so sorry, Ven.”

“Why do we have to sell the house? It belongs to you, doesn’t it? Why do I have to leave school? I have friends there finally, why would you make me leave them?” Ven’s voice was raising in pitch, with each successive question, until he was shouting.

“I’m not _making_ you leave them, Ven,” she pleaded. “It’s just-- we owe so much money.”

“If you wait another year, I can take up a profession. I could join the regiment, or--”

Aqua shook her head, wretched. “We don’t have another year. And it wouldn’t be enough in any case.”

Ventus’ eyes filled with furious tears. “Where would we go?”

Aqua reached out for Ven’s hand again, but he held it away from her as if the touch of her hand might burn. She gave up. “Someplace else. Probably someplace smaller. I haven’t quite figured that out yet.”

“If Terra were here, we wouldn’t have to sell the estate.” Ven spit the accusation at her, as if it were poison. It was meant to hurt, and it hit its mark.

Aqua sat back, head spinning. Ventus barely remembered Terra, who had left when he was only seven, and in the intervening years he had lionized Eraqus’ other ward. He was always after stories of Terra, and the lessons that Eraqus had taught the two of them, both the mundane and the not-so-mundane. Or he was inquiring about what Aqua thought Terra was doing on the Continent, or making up daydreams where he came back one day.

Aqua had thought that one day, Terra’s memory would be used as a weapon against her. She did not think it would be Ventus who wielded it.

“Maybe we wouldn’t have to,” Aqua said, icily furious. “Except Terra’s not here, and you _know_ why.”

Ventus looked away, shamefacedly. “Well, you know I’m right,” he said hotly. He stood up, nearly pushing his chair over, not able to look Aqua in the eyes. “I’m going to bed.”

Aqua pushed the plate of chicken and mushrooms at him. “Finish your dinner, Ventus.”

Ven grabbed his plate and his fork from the table. “I’ll eat in my room,” he declared, and he stormed out of the kitchen.

Aqua forced her way through the rest of her meal alone. Then she retired upstairs to her own room, where she pulled out a tarnished silver locket. Inside was a portrait of a brown haired and brown skinned young man, Ventus’ age and still with some of the softness of youth still about his face but growing into his handsomeness, with a dreamer’s long-lashed blue eyes.

She hadn’t thought of him in months. The man she had once been so sure she was going to marry, and he was now nothing but a painful memory that she sometimes pulled out to examine.

“Where are you now?” she asked the locket.

It gave no answer.

\--

Terra was trembling.

He tried to pretend it was the cold of the sea air, for the spray coming off the sea between England and France was indeed bracing, but he knew that it was fear and excitement both. He could already see the English coastline, hazy as it was on the horizon, looming closer with the slap of every wave.

Terra gripped the boat rail, so hard his fingers ached. Ten years since he had set foot on English soil, and he was terrified.

Terra had resigned himself to never returning to England again under pain of death, though he had always hoped. Save for the good fortune of meeting two noblemen traveling the Continent after finishing their schooling, he would not have dared make the return at all. The two had information regarding his circumstances, and had hoped to find him, though Terra had not made the task easy. That they had found him at all made him believe in destiny.

Terra remembered that day, attending the French salon with sweating palms. Two British noblemen were in Paris, looking for an Englishman by the name of Terra Mercator. He did not think that they meant to drag him back to the crown’s justice, but he could not be sure.

He joined the two out on the terrace, surprised to find them barely out of their boyhood.

“We’re traveling the Continent,” Sora, the younger and slighter of the two, said when Terra asked. “Seeing the world.”

“It’s the traditional Grand Tour. We’ve both just graduated from Oxford.” With a fond look at Sora, Riku added. “Well, some of us only barely.”

Sora rolled his eyes. “As if you would have let me fail.”

“I might have,” Riku threatened, though it was without teeth. “Anyways, we were hoping to find you. I’m glad you’re in Paris, otherwise this might have been much harder.”

Right to the point. Well, Terra thought, it was better than letting him dance on hot coals. “You went to a lot of trouble to find me. I don’t do business under the name Mercator any longer.”

“We met once, a long time ago,” Riku said. “At a house party. I was eleven. You gave me some advice, and a thinking stone. I still have that, by the way.”

Terra frowned. He remembered a boy sitting alone in a garden, angrily kicking up flower beds, in a high fury. Terra had got the boy calmed down and, remembering Eraqus’ advice during Terra’s worse tempers, found the boy a thinking stone that he could rub when he was angry or weighted down by too many problems. “I remember you,” he said. “I’m glad you kept the stone.”

Sora grinned, a wide and infectious grin, and Terra could see how he would easily gain friends wherever he traveled. “We think you’re innocent. If you were worried about that, that is.”

Terra raised his eyebrows. “Thank you,” he said, releasing a breath of relief. “I was worried you were here to drag me back.”

“Actually, we know you’re innocent,” Riku said, and at Terra’s intense look said, “My great-uncle, Lord Xehanort, does-- special work for the army.”

Sora elbowed Riku. “He means he’s a spy.”

Riku sighed. “A bit indelicate, but yes. He’s a spy, in charge of a network of spies. A few months ago I was-- locked in Great-Uncle Xehanort’s study for a length of time.” He exchanged a glance with Sora, and Terra sensed a story beyond what Riku was telling. “I read through some of his correspondence. Some of it mentioned you, and Sir Eraqus.”

Terra froze, at the name. The man who had taken him in and raised him from boyhood, though they did not share a drop of blood. The man closer to a father than any other. The man he was accused of murdering.

“I did not understand the letters at first. They seemed to intimate that Sir Eraqus was in possession of the location of the lost Daybreak Treasure. It was clear from the letters that, in order to keep this treasure from being discovered, Sir Eraqus was murdered and you were framed for it in order to keep the truth from getting out.”

Terra couldn’t breathe. All this time, he had been asking himself why. Why was Eraqus murdered? Why had Terra been incited to quarrel with him, in the days before his murder? Why had Terra been drawn away, during those crucial hours? Why had he been left to hang?

All along, the answer had been sitting in a few letters locked away in a spymaster’s study.

“Can you get these letters again?” Terra asked Riku breathlessly. “Put them before a judge?”

Riku shook his head sadly. “Unfortunately I’ve never been able to get in Great-Uncle Xehanort’s study again. I think that you might have more luck, though. You’ve been away ten years, and I doubt Lord Xehanort remembers you well.”

Terra nodded, understanding. If his name was to be cleared, he would have to do it himself. He leaned forward, hope beating strong in his heart for the first time in ten years. “Tell me where to find these papers.”

He had a chance now, which was better than he’d had before. A chance to clear his name at last. It would not be easy. In all likelihood, it would end with him hanged for the crime which he was accused so many years ago.

He could have lived out the rest of his life on the Continent. He had made his fortune, first as a soldier for hire and later as an importer of goods out of England. He could have found a lovely Italian or French woman and settled down, become Italian or French, and lived out the rest of his life without the fear of a death sentence over his head.

Only he could not keep himself from dreaming of England. Dreaming of _her._

If there was a way to clear his name, Terra was going to grab it with both hands. He would find Lord Xehanort, and the papers that he kept so close.

Terra looked out at the growing coastline. “Aqua,” he promised to the rolling waves. “I will set this right.”


	2. Chapter 2

Weekly tea with Cinderella was the only social engagement Aqua was truly invited to, and so she made certain to never miss it. Every Saturday Aqua put on one of her better dresses and walked the four miles down the road to the house of her dearest and only friend, where they sat in Cinderella’s parlor and drank fine black tea and talked for hours.

They had their own history between them. Aqua had been instrumental in bringing Cinderella and her now-husband together, and in helping Cinderella out from under the thumb of her cruel stepmother. In turn Cinderella had been a pillar while Ven remained bedridden, or when the grief over Eraqus and over Terra grew too weighty to bear.

So, although it twisted her in knots to even think of doing it, Aqua had to make the walk to Cinderella’s house and sit in her parlor and tell her of her plans. It would break her heart to lose such a friendship, but it would be equally cruel to simply disappear without word.

“Where will go you?” Cinderella asked when Aqua told her at last, her fingers clasped tight around her tea cup and her eyes bright as glass.

“I don’t know yet,” Aqua said. “I shall go to London to speak with my solicitor in a few days.”

“You will tell me as soon as you know,” Cinderella ordered, and Aqua smiled. The girl she had known, just out of her stepmother’s house, would never have dared such brazenness. “And of course I shall write to you-- as often as I get the chance.”

“Of course,” Aqua said. She had not thought it a guarantee, but she would of course keep up the correspondence.

“And you shall come visit.”

“If I get the chance,” Aqua said, knowing that the chance that she could afford such visits was slim.

“Or I shall come to visit you-- though of course it won’t be the same.” Cinderella’s eyes welled up all over again. She swiped at her eyes “Are you sure you can’t just-- marry a wealthy gentleman who will settle all your debts at last?”

Aqua actually laughed. She was twenty-eight and unmarried, and the topic had come up far more often of late. Aqua had resigned herself to a solitary life. “I’m afraid not.”

“Or even someone in town,” Cinderella said. “That young Mr. Fair seemed quite taken with you last year.”

“Mr. Fair joined the army, or did I hear incorrectly? His interest must not have been so great after all.”

“Even officers need wives,” Cinderella said, chin held high. She sighed. “Well, I suppose not. Though I do hope you find someone who will make you happy. We were all cruelly disappointed when that business with Terra turned out so horribly. The whole village thought you would someday marry, you were thick as thieves. I’ve always wondered if he’s why you never married.”

Hearing Terra’s name for the second time in as many days was like a stab between her ribs. That morning she had opened her door to Ven’s cleaned supper plate and an apology letter. It was easier hearing Terra’s name this time.

Aqua raised her chin. “Actually, I hardly think of him at all anymore,” she said. It was not a lie, exactly. Had Ven not brought him up at supper yesterday, she might have gone months more without wondering after his whereabouts.

Cinderella grinned. “Good,” she said. “Then you shall have no trouble catching a husband.”

“I go to London on Thursday. If the good Mr. Fair proposes before then, then perhaps I shall marry him.”

“Greater miracles have been known to happen,” Cinderella said, suddenly quite serious. “You showed me that.”

\--

The gentleman’s club where Terra had spent most of the morning was starting to empty out, without any sign of the man he was attempting to make his introduction to. Terra glanced furtively towards the door again, and promptly lost the hand of cards he was currently playing.

Terra’s plan was simple in its design, if not in its execution. Ingratiate himself with the _ton_ , gain access to Xehanort’s manner, and find the letters that would exonerate him under the law. Unfortunately Lord Xehanort was not a frequently social creature and did not often attend the endless round of social engagements that made up so much of the lives of the upper classes.

Rather, he spent the majority of his time in the halls of politics and at other pursuits. He was, however, known to frequent this club.

“Hey, hey, are you even paying attention?” said the redhead currently scooping up all of his winnings, an Irish businessman by the name of Axel. “It doesn’t feel fair taking all your money if you’re not even paying attention, you know?”

Terra looked at his cards-- a woefully losing hand-- and folded them on the table. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“He’ll be here,” Axel said. “If I know Xehanort-- and I’ve known enough to last a lifetime, believe me. Why you want to meet with the old bastard I’ve got no idea, but--”

“It’s personal,” Terra said.

“Sure, but personal can mean a lot of things. Just make sure you know what you’re getting into.” Axel set his cards down on the table and his eyes flickered towards the door of the club. “Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear. And his little protege too.”

Terra glanced back, trying to see without twisting his whole body around and giving away the depth of his interest. An old man had walked in, dressed in the very best that money could buy, flanked by a young man who seemed barely out of boyhood.

“Who’s that?” Terra asked under his breath.

“Vanitas,” Axel explained. “He’s Lord Xehanort’s grand nephew or something-- either way Lord Xehanort’s been introducing him around town.”

Terra glanced around at the low lit and smoke-filled surroundings, at the men in suits making talk and drinking port, and raised an eyebrow. “He seems young to be at a gentlemen's club.”

“Try telling that to Lord Xehanort,” Axel said quietly. “Come on.”

He stood, and Terra with him, to directly intersect Lord Xehanort’s path. Terra’s heart beat loudly in his chest, drowning out all else as he for the first time got a good look at his adversary. He looked like any other old man, balded with a long grey beard, age spotted and wrinkled. He looked like Terra might tip him over and he might shatter.

Except for the look in his pale brown eyes. Sharp and cunning, as he sized up Axel and this newcomer.

“Mr. O’Leigh,” said Lord Xehanort, stopping as Axel very deliberately crossed his path. “What a surprise.”

“We were hoping to find you here, Lord Xehanort,” Axel said.

“A surprise, coming from you.”

Axel demurred. “We’ve had our differences in the past, certainly. But I have a friend wanting to meet with you, and I thought I’d make the introduction.”

“I see that.” Xehanort sized Terra up, and for a moment he felt picked apart, like his flimsy disguise was unraveling as he stood there. Who could mistake him for anything but an impostor in this world? But Xehanort only nodded. “A pleasure, Mr. …?”

“Xemnas.” Terra held out his hand to shake, grateful that his palms were not clammy with excitement. “Leopold Xemnas. I’ve some business that I think you shall be highly interested in -- imports and exports from France and Belgium.”

“You’re from the Continent?”

“I was born in England,” Terra explained. “But I’ve lived abroad for some time now, yes.”

“Then we shall have to discuss business,” Xehanort said. “Not today, however, I’ve pressing matters to attend to.” He stroked at his beard thoughtfully, glancing back to the shadow at his side. Vanitas had so far said not a single word, had only watched the proceedings through his lamp-like eyes in his pale face. There was something uncannily familiar about him, something that Terra couldn’t place. “I’m not a man for parties myself, but certain milestones are coming up in young Vanitas’ life that require recognition. If we’re to discuss business, there’s a number of people you should meet. Give me your direction, and I shall secure you an invitation.”

Terra’s mouth went dry. This was exactly the chance he had been hoping for, dropped into his lap. He could scarcely believe his good fortune. “That would be most agreeable, Lord Xehanort.”

Xehanort smiled, a tightly coiled smile. “Very good,” he said. “Then I shall bid you gentlemen a good day. Come along, Vanitas.”

“We won’t keep you from your business any longer,” Axel said, and he dragged Terra away. How Terra managed to exit the gentlemen’s club he wasn’t sure. His head was spinning with the whirlwind conversation. He had met Xehanort, and had all but secured an invitation to his house.

“Well, that went better than expected,” Axel said, once they had exited the club to the street. “Shall I call us a carriage?”

“No,” Terra said, head still spinning. “I think I need the air.”

“Suit yourself, Mr. Xemnas.” Axel grinned. “I’ve never known Lord Xehanort to be so amenable. He must really be interested in whatever you’re selling.”

Since there was no business, and it was entirely a ruse to gain access to Xehanort’s files, Terra had to wonder if it was too good to be true. But then, if Xehanort knew already, then why issue him an invitation at all? Why not just call the constable and be done with it? And according to Riku, Xehanort did have an interest in importing and exporting from the Continent.

“Yes,” Terra said. “It couldn’t have gone better. Thank you, Axel.”

Things could not be going better. He would find the papers he needed, present them to the court, and in no time he would be home. Home with Aqua. Home with Ventus. Terra had not gone to see him, though everything in him ached to do so. If he was caught, it would put them in no end of danger. He had inquired discreetly about their whereabouts, only to discover that they both still lived at Departure House where they had grown up. Aqua was as yet unmarried, and Ventus about to finish his schooling in another year.

The London Streets were crowded, and Terra lost in his thoughts so that he was not paying attention to the crowds. He barely noticed the young woman in her grey traveling dress with her head down who passed him by and then turned to stare.

“Terra?” she said, incredulous, and instinctively Terra turned to face her.

\--

The honorable Mr. Fair did not propose by Thursday morning, and so Aqua hired a carriage to take her to London to visit with her solicitor. She planned to stay for four days at least, to begin overseeing the sale of Departure House and the purchase of a new home that would accommodate herself and Ventus. She arrived to her rented accommodations late into the evening, and woke early to visit her solicitor’s office.

Once there, she put her signature to papers that would put Departure House officially up for sale. She organized all of her various debts, until she had an accounting of exactly how much she owed. She double-checked the legal papers that gave her guardianship over Ventus, though it lasted only a year more. She also started to look at listings for houses she thought she might afford after the sale, all much smaller and further away from Departure House.

Aqua started to imagine her life in the coming months. Perhaps it would not be so bad, to start over in a completely new place. It all felt so far away and distant, and she had never traveled very far despite her girlhood dreams.

She might even be able to forget all of the ghosts that had haunted her for ten years.

The whole of the visit lasted less than three hours. Aqua concluded her business with a small stack of papers tucked into the valise under her arm and a strong sense of melancholy. With the signing of papers it was real, and she would soon leave behind the place where she had lived for as long as she remembered. She did not know where she would go after.

She stepped out into the grey London morning, feeling as if she might fade into it in her grey traveling dress. No one in the vast crowd going about their business seemed to notice her passing by, with her valise clutched to her chest and hot tears on the edge of her eyes. She lowered them, so that she might burst into tears freely without being seen.

She did not get the chance. A man a few paces ahead arrested her attention as he passed by. He was dressed like a wealthy gentleman, in a pristinely tailored suit and hat, but nonetheless she knew his face. She had traced the features more often than she cared to admit, captured in the memory of a locket.

Aqua stopped mid-stride and turned around.

It couldn’t be.

And yet there he was, striding blithely down a London boulevard in the company of a red-haired gentleman who appeared to know him.

“Terra?” she asked, half afraid to believe it, and the gentleman turned around.

A pace later the red-haired man walking with him stopped and turned as well. “Something wrong?”

Terra’s eyes-- as blue and long-lashed as Aqua remembered-- flickered over Aqua and then back to the redhead. That momentary glance was enough-- he knew her, as surely as she knew him. “No, nothing.” His mouth turned down at the edge, and he started to turn back around. “I apologize, I thought I heard my name.”

Aqua watched in disbelief as Terra began to walk away from her. Already back in her life and he wanted to pretend that he was not _here_ , on the streets of London where he was in danger every second his feet touched the ground. Her hand snapped out and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, so that he could not disappear on her again.

“Terra,” she said again, this time firmer. “What are you doing here?”

The red haired man looked between Terra and Aqua. “I thought your name was Leopold. And who’s she?”

“Leopold?” Aqua said, appalled.

Terra pulled at Aqua’s grip on his sleeve, to no avail. “I assure you that I haven’t the slightest notion who this young woman is. Miss, you seem to have me mistaken for someone else.”

Aqua understood several things at once. Terra had chosen a false name in order to travel to England. He had found some way to travel back that would not have him immediately arrested, and had not told them. Had not told her.

And she had just shattered his ruse.

Aqua let go of Terra’s sleeve.

“I guess I was mistaken,” she said, glaring stonily at Terra. She would not just let him wander off into the London crowds, not without knowing what he was doing here. “I apologize for my behavior. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, gentlemen.”

“Mr. Leopold Xemnas and Mr. Axel O’Leigh.” Terra tipped his-- fashionable and expensive-- hat.

“Miss Aqua Riviere.” Aqua held out her hand, boldly.

“Are you traveling alone?” Terra asked, and after Aqua had confirmed that he was he continued, “It’s not safe on the streets of London for a woman alone. Let me at least see you to your lodgings.”

Aqua would never in her life have agreed to walk alone anywhere with an unknown man she had just met on the street, but this was no unknown man on the street. This was Terra, whom she had known all her life, trying to get out from under the scrutiny of his companion. “I would be much obliged, Mr. Xemnas.”

Terra turned back to Mr. O’Leigh, who was watching all of this with a suspicious eye. “You don’t mind, do you Axel?”

Mr. O’Leigh waved them on. “Sure, go ahead,” he said. He gave Terra a significant look, one that Aqua could not decipher without context. “I’ll find you later.” He crossed the street, hailing a hack and disappearing inside.

Terra held out his arm, just as any well-mannered gentleman might, right at the height so that Aqua might take it. She noticed that his fingers were tightly pressed to his palm, knuckles pale. “Shall we, Miss Riviere?”

Aqua took Terra’s arm. Her head still spun, unsure if all of this was real, even as they started down the street. Aqua desperately wanted to glance back, to see if the hack that Mr. O’Leigh had hired was still sitting on the street corner. Instead she set her gaze forward, and steered Terra towards the lodging house where she had let a room.

They walked two blocks in tense silence. Aqua could feel every beat of her heart against her ribcage, and in the place her fingertips touched Terra’s jacket. She could feel the tension in his frame, even as he looked completely relaxed.

“Terra,” she started.

“Not here,” Terra said through clenched teeth.

Aqua nodded, and fell silent. She took this time to study his face, how the years had changed him. His hair was longer, and he dressed for wealth and fashion, though the strength of his frame was obvious under the well-tailored clothes. There were angles in his features, where before there had been only the suggestion of them. His skin had weathered and darkened some, and the very beginnings of crows feet had started at the edge of his long lashes.

He was still uncommonly handsome. 

This Terra was a stranger, and he had been for years. Aqua did not know this well-heeled man who kept his jaw clenched tight, did not know the tiny scar on his jawbone or this furrow in his brows. Not as she had once known the boy he had been.

She would have to make him see reason. He could not be here, on this island or anywhere surrounding. She did not know what mad scheme had brought him here, but she would have to make him leave again. For all their sakes.

Aqua let Terra in the back door of the lodging house, and up the quiet stairs into her rooms. When she let the door click shut, Terra’s head snapped up in alarm.

“Aqua,” he said, glancing at the latch. “Is that--”

“Proper?” Aqua asked, bitter that he would think of her reputation now. Terra's disappearance had rocked the town and put Aqua under the shadow of scandal. This far from home and already on the edge of financial ruin, her reputation was the furthest thing from her mind. “You’re the one who wanted to speak somewhere private.” Aqua crossed her arms over her chest. “So. What are you doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terraqua reunion! Not quite as emotionally satisfying as the KH3 reunion, but it's only chapter 2. Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and enjoying this!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Terraqua day! Have a chapter update!

_ So. What are you doing here?  _

The accusation hung in the air between them. Aqua clung tight to her valise, holding it between herself and Terra like it might prove a barrier between them. She was not sure what she was protecting herself from, other than the furious beating of her own heart. 

She watched, warily, as Terra took a seat. Similarly his eyes never left her, taking her in just as Aqua had him. “I found a lead,” he said, eyes bright with a feverish excitement. “Something that might let me come home.” 

Aqua shook her head sharply. “What were you thinking? You can’t be here, you’ll be caught and--”

“I’m being careful,” Terra interrupted. “It’s been ten years. No one in London knows the name Terra Mercator, and no one is looking for me.” 

Aqua frowned. How could he not see just how much danger he was in? “What about this evidence, then? What was so important that came back?” 

“I met someone on the continent. Someone who searched me out, because he found letters that proved that Eraqus’ murder was committed by another.” 

Aqua flinched, at the mention of her long-deceased uncle. A man who had been like a father to them both. It also did not escape her notice that Terra was keeping things from her, when she had never known him to keep secrets before. “And why could this someone not have brought the letters to the magistrate himself? Why must you be here, under a false name, to achieve your exoneration?” 

Terra’s posture stiffened at the questioning. “The letters were not in his possession.” 

“Ah. And whose possession were they in, by chance?” 

Terra stuck his chin out, as he once had done when insisting to Eraqus that neither he nor Aqua had anything to do with an inconveniently broken vase. “They are in the possession of one Lord Xehanort. I plan to liberate them from his possession.”

All of the breath nearly went out of Aqua at the audacity of Terra’s plan. “ _ Steal _ private correspondence from a Peer of the Realm?” she demanded, still astonished at the idea. “You’ll be transported, provided you aren’t hanged first.”  

“I wasn’t planning on handing the letters to the magistrate myself,” Terra snapped. He took a breath, and his gaze met Aqua’s, impassioned. “And if Lord Xehanort is responsible for Eraqus’ death, then he should be held answerable for his crime.” 

Aqua blinked, eyes suddenly hot. It had been yet another in a series of terrible things, to never see her uncle’s murderer brought to justice. “You know he is responsible, then? For certain?” 

Terra shook his head. “No,” he said sadly. “Not until I see the letters.” 

Aqua clamped down on the old grief, until it was locked back away in the deep corners of her heart. “This is still a terrible idea.” She sat down on the edge of the narrow boardinghouse bed, and glanced sidelong at Terra. “How long have you been here?” 

“Two weeks.” 

Aqua clutched the handle of her valise so tightly her fingers hurt. “And you didn’t think to tell me? Or Ven?” 

There was silence for a long time, as Aqua stared at the floorboards of the boardinghouse, hot tears making her eyes swim. 

“Aqua,” Terra said, rough with emotion. Aqua glanced up, to see her own tears mirrored in Terra’s eyes. “The moment I set foot on English soil, the only thing keeping me from you was the thought that I might put you in danger.” 

Aqua turned away, her grip on her valise easing. “You were likely right about that. At least.” She took a slow, steadying breath, until she was under her own mastery again. She looked back at Terra, patiently watching her. “Terra, you need to go back to the Continent. Where you’re safe.” 

Terra stared resolutely back. “I can’t.” 

“And I can’t watch you hang.” 

The soft fall of Terra’s hand on Aqua’s shoulder made her flinch. She stared resolutely up at the man who she had known for so long -- and who she didn’t know at all. She wanted to believe in the firmness of his conviction, in the warm and steady hand on her shoulder. She couldn’t. 

“I won’t let that happen.” 

“You might not have a choice.” Aqua’s voice shuddered. She had had so many dreams about the night that Terra was taken away, protesting his innocence to the unhearing world. In her dreams she always saw a swaying loop of rope, the end of the line. “Please, just go back where you’re safe.” 

“I’m not leaving until I see those letters. I have to try,” Terra said. Simple as that, and she could not sway him. 

“You’ll be killed.”

“Not if you help me.” Terra’s fingers skimmed Aqua’s jawline, gently. A soft plea in his touch. The touch of his fingers left her skin alive in its wake. “You were trained by Master Eraqus, the same as me. I could use your help.” 

Aqua had not thought that Terra would ask this. She still had the selling of Departure House to oversee, she had to figure out what to do with Ven-- “I haven’t used those skills in ten years. I’m a proper lady now.” 

Terra’s smile was soft with old nostalgia. “You were always better at it than me. I’m sure you remember how.” 

Despite herself, Aqua smiled. “You weren’t half bad yourself. And you always worked so hard.” 

“Well, I had a good reason.” Terra’s eyes met Aqua’s, and the heat of the implication in his gaze struck right to her core. She was still weak to him, especially when he looked at her like she was the only woman in the world. “So? Will you help me?” 

She needed to meet with her solicitor. She needed to write a letter to Ven so that he could look over their future options. She did not need to run off on a hare brained scheme that could get the both of them thrown in jail or worse. Aqua stepped away from Terra and his intoxicating looks, retreating to the opposite corner of the room.

“What’s your plan?” 

Terra’s face lit up with his smile, and Aqua could not regret her agreement in the face of it. “Lord Xehanort is holding a ball for his prot égé, Vanitas. I’ve already been invited. I was planning on slipping away when the party is in full swing and breaking into his study.” 

If Terra wanted to get into a Lord’s private study, in the midst of the chaos of a house party would be the best opportunity. It might be his only opportunity. 

“We’ll devise some reason to bring you with me. A relation, a cousin perhaps, or--”

“Your fiancée?” 

Terra’s expression when Aqua turned back to look was held still, almost unmoving. Aqua felt the heat of a flush, as the implication of her suggestion hit her. She readjusted the tie on her cloak.  “It would make the most sense, introducing your fiancée to the ton.” 

Terra swallowed. He seemed disappointed. “Of course.” 

“I’ll need a dress, and a maid, and a place to get ready,” Aqua said, forging forward and ignoring Terra’s disappointment. They had been in love once, but that did not change the present. “I trust you can provide that?”

Terra nodded. “You’ll have it. Do you have… any requests, for your gown?” 

Aqua thought of her drab and unfashionable wardrobe. She had once had a small collection of gowns for all occasions, had enjoyed the small pleasure of picking them out and wearing them. Terra had teased her for her girlish sensibilities, but it had not deterred her. She had sold them in order to keep herself afloat, bits of color and frivolity and childhood that she had slowly given up one at a time until she was left with only stark practicality. 

“Something blue?” she asked, her words breaking on the sudden emotion. “Bright blue, if you can manage it.” 

“Of course.” Terra’s voice was barely a whisper. 

Aqua swallowed down the hard longing forming a lump in her throat. She did not want to see Terra pitying her. “I’ll give you my measurements. If you’ll just give me your direction, I should be able to find where you’re staying easily enough. And Terra…?” She paused over the words, unsure if she should let them loose. 

Terra’s gaze flickered to Aqua. “Yes?” 

Aqua took a breath, to steady her resolve enough to hurt him with. “I’m not in love with you anymore. And you can’t fall back in love with me.” She watched her words dawn on Terra’s face, surprise and confusion followed by sudden quick hurt and steeled her resolve. “That part of our lives is over, and going back to it-- it wouldn’t be a good idea.” 

Terra stood still for several terrible seconds, and Aqua wondered if he was going to ask her why. She didn’t have a good reason, other than the touch of Terra’s fingers on her chin made her feel like she was going to shake apart. She might give in if he argued, and then if he left again-- she could not face that again. 

Terra bowed stiffly at the waist. He pulled a card from his waistcoat, which he set on the dresser. “My direction. If you send your measurements there, I will receive them.” He straightened, and squared his shoulders. Frowned briefly, and smoothed his waistcoat with his hands. “I suppose-- I’ll be going then.” 

“Yes,” Aqua said. “That’s probably for the best.” 

Terra stopped with his hand on the doorknob and looked back, full of enough longing to pierce Aqua’s chest. “And Aqua-- thank you.” 

Aqua stared at the door for a long time after Terra had left. She could not move. For the life of her she could barely breathe. She stood there in the same spot as the minutes ticked by, carefully folding her disheveled emotions back inside herself. 

She sat down at the tiny desk in the tiny room and started to write a letter to Ven, and pretended that her tears did not wait hot and treacherous behind her eyes. 

\--

Terra got out on the street and hailed a hack back to his borrowed townhome, feeling as if he had been plunged into a stormy sea which had tossed him around and left him unable to find his breath. 

He had spent so long dreaming of seeing Aqua again. The thought of seeing her again had driven him for ten lonely years. Seeing her again had lit up every nerve ending in his skin. It would be impossible to find her the same as he remembered her after ten years of absence, but in every fundamental feature she was unchanged. Standing in that narrow boarding house room with her he had learned that she still favored the same rosewater scent. 

Terra could not honor Aqua’s last request.

Some men described a moment of ignition when they fell in love with a woman. A gunpowder chemical reaction, a flash of fire and heat. Falling in love with Aqua had not been that. It had been more like the oxidation of copper, a slow process spread out over months and years almost unnoticed until at last it is fundamentally changed. She was his best friend and constant companion and occasional partner in crime and somewhere in the time between his tenth and his eighteenth birthday he had known that he would always be in love with her. It was a fundamental truth of the universe, like gravity or magnetism.

He had made a mistake in his youth, of assuming that she would always be there, and had been proven wrong. Somewhere in his heart Terra had held onto the youthful assumption that her feelings for him still burned just as hotly as they had on that night when they said goodbye on the riverbanks.

Of course she had moved on. Ten years was a long time for a heart to hold onto one person alone. 

He would have to temper his disappointment. The most important thing was clearing his name and bringing Eraqus’ killer to justice. If he could only be friends with Aqua again-- so long as he was able to come home, it would be enough. 

It would have to be enough. 

Terra found himself in the neighborhood of the townhome he had gratefully borrowed from the Duke of Destinton, though he could not have told you the streets he took to get there or anything he had seen along the way. His mind was still spinning with thoughts of Aqua. 

He was so preoccupied, he didn’t notice the man with the pistol until it was already pointed at his head. 

The back of Terra’s head hit the iron bars of the townhome fence, setting him to blinking to clear the stars from his vision. His assailant was more than bold to attack in this neighborhood, though he had chosen a spot out of view of the homes along the street. The cold edge of a pistol scraped his temple. Terra’s vision clarified to the sight of Axel O’Leigh holding that pistol, finger to the trigger. 

“Axel?” he said, not quite comprehending what was happening. 

“Nice to see you again,  _ Terra _ .” Axel spit the name, and Terra realized exactly where his plans had gone wrong. “Or Mr. Xemnas or whatever you’re calling yourself.” 

“I can explain. Why don’t we go inside--”

Axel pressed his pistol closer to Terra’s head. “No, I think you’ll explain out here. You knew that girl on the street, much as you tried to pretend you didn’t. I can tell when there’s a jig afoot, mate, even if you think I’m stupid.” 

“Yes, I know her,” Terra said, unable to take his eyes from the pistol at the corner of his vision. He was very aware that with one wrong move, Axel could easily pull the trigger. This close, he could not miss. “I’ve known her since I was a child. My real name is Terra Mercator.” 

Axel did not seem quite convinced by the bald truth. “Go on.” 

“Her uncle took me in when I was ten. Sir Eraqus Castellum was his name. Ten years after he was murdered, and I was blamed for it. I’ve come back to clear my name, and to get justice for the man who was like a father to me.” The words came out of him in a rush. 

Axel lowered the pistol, enough for Terra to take a breath. “I’ve heard of Sir Eraqus,” he said. 

Terra nodded, curiosity raging over where he had heard his former teacher’s name. “He did specialized work for the Crown.” 

“And you think Xehanort killed him.” Axel stowed the pistol in his jacket pocket. “Well, that makes sense. You want to take down Xehanort. That’s a plan I can get on board with.” 

Terra frowned. “I don’t know if Lord Xehanort killed him. I only know he has letters in his possession that might exonerate me.” 

Axel clapped Terra on the shoulder, as if he had not half a minute earlier been threatening him with a pistol. “Mate, if Xehanort knows about Sir Eraqus’ death, he’s got to be responsible.” 

Terra swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. Axel seemed so assured. If he was as close to the man who had killed Eraqus as it seemed… It didn’t seem real. “How do you know that?” 

“Because I used to be his chief assassin,” Axel said cheerfully. He knocked his knuckle against his forehead. “Get that memorized. Why don’t we talk more inside?” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your patience! Writing this chapter was like pulling teeth. I probably rewrote the first scene from scratch about six times, which is five more times than I would have liked.

Terra sat in his borrowed sitting room, bemusedly watching a professed former assassin who had not an hour earlier put a gun to Terra’s head, pace the room and occasionally pick up a sandwich from the tray that had been put out and chew thoughtfully at it. Every so often Axel would turn towards Terra and look as if he meant to speak, before resuming his pacing.

“So,” Terra said, finally addressing the elephant in the room - though he felt almost foolish for saying the words. “You’re an assassin for Lord Xehanort.” 

“ _ Was  _ an assassin,” Axel corrected. “These sandwiches are delicious, by the way.” 

“I’ll pass on your compliments to the chef.” 

“Mm,” Axel said, plucking another sandwich off the large tray. In Terra’s few weeks in residence, the staff had grown accustomed to the way the gentleman in residence liked to eat - frequently, in Terra’s case. It was a boyhood trait he had never grown out of, the ability to put away a whole plate of food and shortly after feel hungry again. This was exacerbated in its way by Terra’s ingrained habit of keeping frequently active. Between the two of them, the tray of sandwiches was already near half-gone. “He’s more dangerous than you know.”

“I know that he’s a spy, of a sort,” Terra said. He was beginning to believe Axel, that Lord Xehanort was a very dangerous sort of person. What, exactly, was he getting involved in here? 

Axel raised his eyebrows, impressed. “So you do know some things,” he said. “Lord Xehanort isn’t just any spy. He works directly for the Crown. Much like your Sir Eraqus did, once upon a time.”

Terra frowned. Axel had said as much outside. “You said Lord Xehanort might be responsible for his death.” 

“More than likely,” Axel said. “Xehanort has been responsible for a lot of terrible things over the years.” 

Terra shook his head, trying to wrap his head around everything. Xehanort was a spy, working for the Crown. He knew about Eraqus’ murder, and perhaps had a hand in it. It didn’t add up. “Eraqus worked for the Crown too. Why would they want him dead?” 

Axel took another sandwich, but did not take a bite. Instead he considered Terra, green eyes serious. “He may not have done it on the Crown’s orders,” he said at last. “Xehanort works for the Crown, yes-- but he also has his own agenda. And he has ties to…” 

Axel scowled, looking away. He took a large bite of his sandwich and chewed frustratedly. 

Terra leaned forward. “Ties to what?” 

Axel shook his head, suddenly grim. “It’s worth more than my life to tell you, mate,” he said. “Look, just believe me when I tell you that Xehanort is more than dangerous. You’d be better off if you just left well enough alone.” 

Terra hadn’t thought that this would be easy. He had known that he was risking his life in even making the crossing back to England. If Xehanort was dangerous then so be it. If there was even a chance that he could clear his name, he had to take it.

He thought of Aqua. Still lovely, in her severe clothing and with caution behind her eyes. He thought of Ventus, only a boy when he had left, who now must be almost a man. He thought of Eraqus, who deserved justice after all these years.

“Please,” he said. “I don’t care what the risks are. I need those letters. Whatever you can tell me--” 

Axel contemplated Terra, steepling his fingers on his chin. “You’re really committed to this, aren’t you?” he said, and then grinned. “Look, I said I’d help you and I will. Even I don’t know all the details of what Xehanort’s wrapped up in-- they’re very secretive. They call themselves The Brotherhood of Thirteen.” 

Terra frowned. “I’ve never heard of them.” 

“Kind of the point of a secret society, innit?” Axel said. “If you make an enemy of Xehanort, you make an enemy of the Brotherhood. And they’re more dangerous than you can imagine.” 

A secret society? That complicated matters considerably. Especially if they were as powerful and well-connected as Axel was intimating. “How do you know of them?”

Axel’s expression turned dark. “Let’s just say an old friend,” he said. “One I’ve been trying to help for a long time. Only nobody leaves the Brotherhood-- not if they want to live, anyway.” He shook his head, and the grim expression melted away. “Well, at least you can’t say I didn’t warn you when all this is over.” 

_ Eraqus,  _ Terra thought.  _ Eraqus left the Brotherhood, and that’s why he was killed.  _ He had no proof or basis for the thought. He did not even know for certain if Eraqus had been a member. But he suddenly knew with a hair raising certainty that Eraqus had been a member of this secret fraternity of spies, and that he had been killed for his involvement. 

“Then how do we deal with them?” Terra asked. 

“That’s what I’m still thinking about,” Axel said. He took another sandwich from the pile and chewed it thoughtfully. “Look, you still need those letters, right? Those are what are going to prove you’re innocent. You do have a plan to get them right?” 

Oh, sure Terra had a plan. A flimsy plan. Hastily cooked up in a boarding house room while trying not to think about the fact that he was alone in a room for the first time in ten years with the woman he loved. One that required him to not fall in love with her again. 

“I’ve got a plan.” 

“Then let me think about how to handle the Brotherhood,” Axel said. “I know a few people I can reach out to-- old friends and the like. Find the letters and keep them safe somewhere. Once you’ve got them, we can plan our next move.” 

Terra nodded. “Very well,” he said. It was good to have an ally - even one as strange as Axel O’Leigh. He stood from his chair, reached out his hand to shake Axel’s. “I’ll be in contact. And Axel… thank you.” 

Axel’s eyes glittered green in the lamplight. “You’re welcome,” he said. “But I’m not doing it for you.” 

\--

Aqua had gone over and over her meeting with Terra in her head, lingering on every detail. She felt as if she were living in a dream, as she traveled to and from her solicitor’s office and worked out the details for the sale of her property.  

Terra was alive, and in London. He was close enough that a brisk walk would take her to his door in under an hour’s time. He had given her his address, a townhouse tucked away in a well-to-do neighbourhood. Aqua found her thoughts drawn incessantly there, as she worked through her days. 

Sometimes it was fear that drew her thoughts. She could not forget that Terra was a convicted criminal, that every day he remained he did so with a sword to his neck. 

Other times it was curiosity. What had he done in his time away? What kinds of things had he seen? Had the ten years changed him just as completely as they had changed her? The thought that she could just cross town and knock upon his door haunted her waking thoughts. 

And yet that short walk remained between them. A few times Aqua found herself wandering in Terra’s direction, only to stop and turn back, full of self-admonishment. She could not be the one to put him in jeopardy. Already she dreaded the day that he would have to leave again-- for he would have to leave, she knew that with certainty. Even if they found the letters he promised would exonerate himself, Terra would have to depart again. 

It would be intolerable, for her own actions to bring that about one second sooner. 

And so she stayed away. Until she could stay away no more. 

Between Aqua’s business and the occupation of her hours with wondering about Terra, the days melted away. She had sent a quick letter to Ventus, explaining her extended stay. 

> _ Dear Ven, _
> 
> _ I find that my business in town has conspired to keep me away. I shall be a few days longer in town before I manage to return. Rest assured that everything is as smooth as can be. I shall have us a new home before you know it, and a fresh start.  _
> 
> _ I am sorry that we quarreled so before I left. I am sorry for my anger. I wish that things were different, that we could have our family back exactly the way it was. You were so young when everything fell apart. I wish that things were different now, and I am sorry that things must change. I can only hope for your understanding.  _
> 
> _ I shall be back in time to see you off to school, I promise.  _
> 
> _ All of my love, _
> 
> _ Aqua _

She agonized over whether to tell Ventus about Terra’s arrival in London. In the end she decided against it. She did not want to break his heart all over again when Terra would inevitably have to leave. 

Aqua was readying herself for bed in her drab boarding house room when the note came. After pulling a coat on over her nightgown she swiftly took the note from the messenger, already sure of its contents. She unfurled it eagerly anyways, if only to see the familiar handwriting. 

Terra’s handwriting was more properly a scrawl. Aqua smiled down at it, nostalgic. Terra had never been diligent at practicing his flicks. He had always been restless, wanting to move and be outside rather than in the schoolroom. Their tutors had doted on Aqua, and occasionally despaired of Terra, though it seemed that they had both done as much learning as the other. And once Eraqus had started his personal lessons it was a moot point anyways-- those were fascinating enough to capture both of them. Terra’s script had improved since his departure, but not by much. 

The note was short, reading only,  _ Your dress is ready. Come by tomorrow to ensure it fits properly. T.M.  _

Aqua folded it back up, tucking the note in her valise with the rest of her legal papers. She should burn the note, connected as it was to their clandestine connection. But with such an innocuous message, she could not imagine the harm should it be found. And she selfishly wanted to keep it. 

That night was a torment of tossing and turning in anticipation. She would adjust to make herself comfortable, only for her thoughts to race away from her. She would close her eyes tight and try to make herself think of nothing, only for stray worries to pop in unannounced.

At last she stood up from her bed, a growl in the back of her throat. She winced as her feet touched the cold floorboards, but pushed away that discomfort. She began a regimen of exercises Eraqus had taught her long ago, pushing her own weight up with her arms, furiously working muscles she had not worked in years until sweat soaked through her nightgown. 

At last she stripped off her soaked nightgown and donned the spare nightgown she had brought with her. Exhausted, muscles aching, she fell into bed and at last drifted off to sleep. 

Aqua woke late the next morning, still tired. She dressed in her day dress and tied her hair up into a tight chignon. She took a weak tea with her breakfast at the boardinghouse, which helped to clear the fog from her head. She looked at the clock in the boardinghouse and realized that she would be late by at least a quarter of an hour if not more. 

And then she stepped out into the bright and cold morning air and started on her way into town. 

She walked briskly to keep her mind busy. If she was putting one foot step in front of the other and focusing on weaving between passers by, then she had no time to concentrate on the knot slowly forming in her stomach. 

And then she was there, standing in front of the door way. 

Terra’s place of residence was a lovely house, all red brick with white trimmed windows. It was three stories, with a fence and a hedge and a neat path leading up to the white painted door.  _ A family house, someday _ , she thought without prompting. 

Aqua adjusted her hat and pulled her cloak close around her shoulders. She pushed open the gate and followed the little path to the front door, where she found a pair of brass door knockers, above which hung a plate bearing the name  _ Destinton _ . Aqua stared at it quizzically for a moment - perhaps Terra had yet to remove the plate? He had only been here two weeks, he had said. 

She took a deep breath and knocked. 

Almost immediately a manservant opened the door. He looked her up and down, and Aqua felt keenly aware of her shabby clothes compared to this well-dressed man and this lovely house. She raised her chin an inch more. She had nothing of which to be ashamed. 

“Miss Riviere?” the manservant asked. 

Aqua nodded. “Yes?” 

“This way please. Mr. Mercator is expecting you.” 


End file.
